Four poems from Mlha za zdi (Mist Behind the Wall), Prague, Mlada fronta, 1992, pages 11, 37, 65 and 72

KINGDOM OF MISTS

Oars creak on the ship
of the misty king.

Float in the green water
of his kingdom.

Banners of flags
blue on yellow.

The sad sit around
in the port.

One moored
his boat to the shore.

Another unmoored,
sailed to kindle lights.

The saddest one moored
himself to a cable.

Cold lights lit up
over the surface.

Fish floated
into the nets.

Ships rest
far to horizon.

Eyes puffed with sleep,
he reads in a book.

The town-hall clock
struck and halted.

The mist lifted,
fish floated out of the nets.

Close in to port
Quietly I float after them.

IN THE MORNING CERTAINLY

A dog is running to the woods.
The mist frays into wolves.

The wind has blown owls
from the treetops.

With a broom I shall sweep
corpses of mice from the steps.

And in the morning certainly
a dog will run up from the woods.

Wolves leap
into mist.

The wind bring owls,
sit them on trees.

Mice come to the steps
to die.

And towards evening certainly
a dog will run off to the woods...

PICTURE WITH BIRDS

The sky is full of birds,
slowly falling.
On leafy parachutes
descending.

The sky is a great vault,
painted with a motley fresco,
painted with a bird's wing,
painted by a master-bird,
a master of simple stock,
of sparrow stock.

The ground is a great mosaic floor
full of cages
of fine wire.
Full of birds
in cages of fine wire.
Full of birds,
meditatively mixing colour
in cages of fine wire.

HUNT

The dog ran on the trail
he smelled the scent of precious stone.

I leant my palm
on the smooth birch-trunk.

The dog ran on the trail,
eyes bound with a silken scarf.

I sat myself down
on a soft cushion of moss.

The dog ran on the trail,
he smelled the scent of your necklace.

I fell asleep,
dazed by the sharp scent of needles.

The dog ran on the trail,
at evening he'll bring you to a castle.
With his dog's hand
he'll pass you a cup of wine.

One poem from Situace (Situations), Prague, Krasne nakladatelstvi, 1995, page 71

THE HORSERIDERS' REST

The road exhausted
the hooves of the horses.

Pebbles fled
the sun to the walls.

The horses went down
to the river.

The bridges turned,
and fled with the eddies.

Towers fell in the river,
rustled like trees.

We floated
on rafts of brick.

Rats' nests
flew up.

Fell in the river
on cobweb parachutes.

The horses left the river,
snorted, swept their tails.

Far down the stream
towers were raised.

Bridges joined the banks,
bricks built a house.

The rats nested
in it.

Evening lured
the pebbles from the walls.

The road received
the hooves of the horses.

We ride to the skyline
with a song.